celebrating nature & exploring humaness with illustrated poems

Finding a Lost Trail

When I arrive at Marshall park three varied thrushes scatter from
the trail-head into the trees. I walk down to the bridge, over the
creek, past the playground and up the trail—hopefully on my way to
Tryon Creek State Park. Last time I got lost and wandered entirely
too far on a deer trail with the absurd notion that this trail on a
map of walking routes put out by the city, is simply not well used.

As I descend toward the creek I see a trail on the other side I
hadn’t noticed before. I realize that this was the spot where the
path became thin and unreliable so I cross the wide log over the
creek and follow this new trail along the water and up the bank to
the intersection at Boones Ferry.

A couple blocks away I find the trail-head into Tryon. The woods
feel open where the creek winds through a wide marshy area,
especially without the leaves of the deciduous trees filling in the
space.

I walk through the park admiring the maple blossoms and budding
leaves springing up right next to the remnants of fall: old seedpods
still hanging on the branches, leaves stuck in the cruxes.

Above me chestnut backed chickadees sing to each other in a cloud
of high-pitched chatter. One peeks over a mossy branch before darting
off into the high branches. Down the trail a ways I find a sunny
bench to have lunch on. Behind me a barred owl sings occasionally as
I watch people walk their dogs past and I eat the two bread heels out
of a bread bag identical to the one my sandwich is in at home in the
fridge.

On the way back I startle several more groups of varied thrushes,
the bold black and white stripes on the underside of their wings
striking as they fly through the deep greens. A female perches next
to a broken branch right above the trail, her lovely orange breast
the exact same color as the inside of a tree before it weathers. I
stay very still, watching until she flies off.

I cross the log again and head up the hill, noticing this part of
the trail is in a process of erosion which makes it seem unlikely to
be a city-sanctioned trail. I pass an unmarked fork farther up and
get out my map to check my route. This was actually my wrong turn. I
was supposed to take the narrower trail to the street.

I’m a little sad to have just discovered this enchanting path
only to realize I should take a boring street route next time since
it’s not good for the creek and all the life it supports to have
the bank wash down.

I walk the rest of the way home and eat my sandwich finally. It
tastes all the better for having been missed.